


Gloves

by DoomedKelpie



Series: Trick or Treat (And What Follows) [5]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Dermatillomania, Discussion of self harm, Excoriation Disorder, Hurt/Comfort, Remus being Remus, Self Harm, Self-Esteem Issues, Skin picking, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, self hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27790285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoomedKelpie/pseuds/DoomedKelpie
Summary: Janus has his reasons for wearing gloves.
Series: Trick or Treat (And What Follows) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002450
Comments: 62
Kudos: 164





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this next part is very much intentional angst. Just make sure you read the tags, and if this kind of thing isn’t your cup of tea, you don’t have to read it.

Once again, Janus found himself having been dragged out of his room. This time, it was to eat breakfast with the others, even though he was perfectly content with having breakfast on his own. Well, at least Virgil looked like he very much wanted to go back to sleep, if the way he looked like a zombie was anything to go by, so he wasn’t alone in his early-morning misery. 

Patton was making French toast while Roman set the table. Logan was cutting some fruit, as Patton had requested of him, and Janus had, despite having been dragged into this, brewed the coffee. Well, he made himself hot chocolate because he actually kind of hated coffee. For whatever reason, it made him nauseous, and he wasn’t addicted to caffeine enough to justify torturing himself by drinking it. Virgil didn’t have a task because of his half-dead appearance and the fact that he was quite possibly not even conscious at the moment, with his head resting on the table. Roman had to set Virgil’s plate off to the side because his face was currently occupying the spot the plate was supposed to go.

Soon enough, the French toast was ready, Virgil was woken up, and they began to eat.

“So, does everyone have plans for the day?” Patton asked. 

“I have to work on Thomas’s schedule for a while, and then I was going to watch a documentary,” Logan replied first. 

“Oooh, what’s the documentary about?”

“The history of toothpicks.”

“Wow, way to live on the edge.”

“Well, what are your plans for the day then, Roman, if mine are too boring?”

“I’m going to fight the dragon-witch!”

“... Again?”

“How many times have you fought them at this point?”

“Unimportant! There’s a million battles I haven’t won! Just you wait!”

“...”

“Well, what about you, Virgil?”

“I have to ruminate about stuff Thomas did when he was in middle school, but other than that, I’m free.”

“... Do you  _ really _ have to do that first part?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“... Alrighty, then,” said Patton. “Janus?”

Janus had really been hoping that Patton would forget to ask him. Because he really  _ didn’t _ have anything to do, and he kind of hated that. Before he had to spend so much time with the other sides, Janus hadn’t really noticed just how little he actually  _ had _ to do. Thomas still didn’t lie very much, and on most days, he did well enough on his own with the self-interest thing and didn’t really need Janus’s direct help. It was enough for him to just exist within the mindscape most of the time. But because of that, there wasn’t much for Janus to do on days they weren’t filming videos or when he wasn’t in that day’s video. He couldn’t even scheme or try to come up with ways to make Thomas listen to him because, well… that would be rather pointless at this point, wouldn’t it? Thomas may have accepted him and realized that he needed Janus sometimes, but that didn’t mean that he needed him  _ all _ the time. Or most of the time, even. 

It was strange, but he felt like he did even  _ less _ since Thomas accepted him than before. But by now, he’d come to the realization that he never  _ actually _ had a lot to do in the first place. Looking back, he’d spent most of his time reading alone in his room, but he didn’t really  _ have _ to do that. It wasn’t part of his job; it was just a way for him to kill time because he was, in reality, pretty irrelevant for the most part. It had just taken hearing about the busier schedules of the other sides for him to realize that.

Oh, and that had just been the most  _ delightful _ realization to have. He’d thrown a fit over nobody listening to him, but he barely even said or did anything to listen to. He was surprised that the other sides had ever even attempted to include him, considering how little his input actually did matter. He felt like he had deceived them, which made sense because he was  _ Deceit _ , but he hadn’t been trying to. He really did think he was important for keeping Thomas happy. But it wasn’t  _ Janus _ who was needed to help Thomas.

And he had spent too much time lost in thought, apparently, because Roman was waving a hand in his face.

“You there, Worst Lies in London?”

Janus blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. Right. He was supposed to answer Patton.

“I don’t have anything to do,” Janus answered finally. “And the sky is blue.”

Patton smiled.

“Would you want to help me bake cookies this afternoon, then?” he asked. “The rest of you can join if you want to, by the way.”

“Um…,” Janus stalled.

He kind of didn’t want to bake cookies with Patton? But he kind of did? Well, whether he did or not, he could at least pretend he was doing something slightly productive today. Oh, what fun, ineffectively lying to himself. 

“ _ No _ , Patton, I  _ won’t _ bake with you this afternoon,” he decided to say.

“Great!” Patton exclaimed. “Does anyone else want to join? Virgil?”

Virgil shrugged.

“Sure.”

“Sorry, Padre, but I’ll have to pass today.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass as well.”

“Well, alright. The three of us will just have to have fun without you two,” Patton told them. “Is around 2 pm good for you guys?”

“Sure,” answered Virgil.

Janus nodded.

It wasn’t long after that everyone finished eating and got up to go their separate ways, at least for the time being.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at part 2. This is the chapter in which the tags start to apply, so be warned. Some people may very well find my descriptions a bit gross. If you want to read this story but don’t want to read a pretty detailed description of skin picking, you should probably just skip this chapter. (I’ll put a TL;DR at the bottom author’s note)

Janus returned to his room so he could get ready for the day, even if the only thing he really had to get ready for was baking cookies. Regardless, if he really had nothing better to do, then there wasn’t really a reason he shouldn’t shower and get dressed. It would be ridiculous for him to have nothing to do and then still not maintain his hygiene. So, he really should go shower.

But Janus had some… mixed feelings about showering. 

One the one hand, Janus liked to shower. He liked being clean, and he liked being underneath the warm water, his half-snake body craving the heat. But on the other hand, showering was obviously done with one’s clothes off, and Janus wasn’t much of a fan of that. Taking his clothes off meant seeing his skin, and well, that didn’t seem to go very well for him.

But it had to be done.

And so, Janus started with setting his clean clothes out on his bed, grabbing his robe, and heading into the bathroom. 

He didn’t turn the shower on immediately- he wasn’t going to actually get into it just yet. It technically didn’t matter if he wasted water because this was the mindscape, and the water wasn’t technically  _ real _ , but well, Thomas didn’t like to waste water, and that rubbed off on Janus. 

Janus started with his gloves, peeling them off like a shedding snake and setting them neatly on the side of the sink. Then he removed his shirt, then the pants and socks and within a minute, he was no longer clothed. As he put his clothes in his hamper, he caught sight of his hands. 

His hands were awful. The skin around his nails was red with inflammation, and small pieces of dead skin remained partially peeled off, hanging on by only a part. There was some dried blood in a few places, mostly from the more recent scabs. He didn’t even need to look at his toes to know they looked just about the same. 

His legs weren’t too bad at the moment, but there was a scattering of tiny, red welts on his upper thighs. Janus ran his bare, scabbed hands over them, trying to feel if there were any raised areas that he hadn’t caused himself. He was pretty sure he could feel a few places, though they were small. That, however, didn’t actually matter much, and Janus soon found himself picking at the inconsistencies in his skin, squeezing and pinching at the spots and digging his nails in some places. Whenever his nails ended up breaking the first layer of skin a bit, he tore that little piece away, and by the time he was satisfied that he had dealt with his legs well enough for the moment, the number of red dots adorning them had probably doubled. 

Next, he looked at his chest, checking to make sure that there weren’t any in-grown hairs. Oh, in-grown hairs were absolutely awful, yet they were oddly something he almost looked forward to discovering. It wasn’t that he  _ liked _ having them, but discovering one and ridding himself of it satisfied whatever twisted compulsion this was enough that he could usually stop after that. He could cut it short and not have to keep searching himself. But today, he found nothing and moved onto his arms.

His arms had once been relatively untouched.  _ Once _ . That was no longer the case. Before, there usually hadn’t been much to deal with on his arms. They used to be relatively smooth and uniform (aside from the patches of scales going down his left arm). But then Janus had started taking a closer look, and he found the tiniest imperfections in the skin there, and once he started picking at them, he was ironically the cause for creating the very things he had to pick at. He peeled up old scabs, tiny droplets of blood welling up from the ones that weren’t close enough to healing, and he squeezed at newer imperfections that he probably would have left alone before. Once the fronts of his arms were taken care of, he used one hand to help twist his skin a bit so he could try to look at the other sides of his arms as much as he could. He hoped that this wouldn’t be one of the times that doing so left him a tiny bruise (those were ugly, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about them until they healed on their own).

And when he was done with his arms, his attention returned to his hands. They really were just so  _ ugly _ . Even still, he couldn’t help but start making them uglier as he started picking at the dry skin at the base of his nails. Ah, his nails. It was ironic that he took such good care of his nails, cutting and filing them to smooth curves of just the right length, but then he went and did this to his skin. What was the point of having nice nails when you had to hide your hands away? Regardless, he kept going, checking each fingertip carefully to make sure he didn’t miss anything. There was a piece of skin peeling off from the corner of the nail on his left pointer finger, and he started tearing it away. The skin kept going, peeling into more alive skin and starting to bleed. It stung, but Janus couldn’t just  _ leave it  _ like that, so he kept going until the piece of skin was removed.

Okay. Janus took a breath in, giving himself another quick once-over to make sure he didn’t miss anything too obvious- obvious to him, at least. Once he found nothing other than the small wounds he had caused himself, he let the breath out. That was enough for now. 

With that done, Janus turned on the shower, and once the water was warm, just a bit hotter than it should be, he cleaned himself, making sure to scrub away at his dotted skin and untouched scales.

He knew that he shouldn’t be doing this. It was pointless and just made his skin look ugly and become more susceptible to infection. But he just couldn’t  _ help it _ , at least, not right now. Janus  _ had _ managed to stop for a while, but as soon as he revealed himself to Thomas (he’d only tried stopping in the first place because he didn’t want his host to think any less of him than he already would), the urge came back stronger than ever before, and after that discussion with the other sides, it only got worse. Every time he looked at his skin, he noticed something wrong with it, and he just couldn’t pretend he didn’t see it and move on with his day. Once he noticed something, he had to do something about it. And unfortunately, the only thing he could really do was pick at it. 

This was why he tried to cover himself up as much as possible. Sure, part of it was that he didn’t want anyone to see his disgusting skin and think he had some kind of skin disease or think he was crazy if they knew he did it to himself, but that wasn’t the only reason. Covering himself, quite simply, kept him from seeing his skin, and therefore, kept him from being able to notice anything wrong with it. 

But enough of that. He was okay for now, and once he had his clothes back on, he would be covered again. He should be fine until it was time to bake cookies with Patton and Virgil, and that would keep him from doing it for a while too. Maybe he would end up doing it again this evening, and maybe he wouldn’t. Even he didn’t know yet. 

By the time he exited the shower, almost an hour had passed, which meant he had probably been checking and picking his skin for at least forty minutes. Great. Why shouldn’t the side with nothing to do waste time on what was probably one of the stupidest things he could waste time on? Why indeed.

He pulled on his robe and snapped his fingers, making his gloves appear on his hands, before he exited into his bedroom. With another quick snap, the robe was replaced by the clothes he’d set out earlier, a golden yellow sweater and his usual black dress pants. 

Good. He was good now. He just needed to put on his hat, and then he could read or something until 2. 

He was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I admit I maybe went a bit overboard with the description here. Sorry.
> 
> TL;DR for anyone who decided to skip reading this chapter: Janus has a really bad skin-picking habit that’s been getting worse recently. He wears the gloves and non-revealing clothing to cover up his skin.


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in this chapter, there are cookies.

“Alright, first we need to mix the wet ingredients,” Patton told the two other sides.

“Can’t we just… mix it all together?” 

“Of course not, Virgil!”

“Um… Why not, though?”

“Because that would break international baking laws!” Patton replied. “Do you want to break the law, son?”

“... No, Dad…”

“That’s what I thought! Now, start beating that butter! With the sugar!”

Virgil did as he was told while Patton turned his attention to Janus.

“While Virgil’s doing that, how ‘bout we get the dry ingredients mixed together?” Patton suggested over the loud whirring of the stand mixer.

“ _ Definitely _ not.”

Janus then went to find the bag of flour, but Patton stopped him. 

“Hold on, kiddo. You might want to take off those gloves,” Patton told him. “It might get a bit messy in here.”

Ah. Right. The gloves. They weren’t exactly the best thing to be wearing while baking, and they probably would end up getting something on them, whether it be flour or something else. But it wasn’t like Janus could just take them off.

“It’s… It’s fine,” Janus replied. “I  _ can’t _ just wash them later.”

Patton gave him a look, tilting his head. Crap. He’d messed up. Both sentences were a lie, so he’d essentially just told Patton it  _ wasn’t _ fine. 

“Well… okay… I guess it’s a good thing we’re making chocolate chip instead of cut-out cookies,” Patton accepted. “We need three cups of sifted flour, so could you sift the flour into this bowl?”

Janus took the offered bowl and sifter, and then he took out the flour. Approximately three seconds after he began sifting, he already had a bit of flour on his gloves. He tried not to be bothered by it, but he felt his shoulders tense up. Regardless, he continued with his given task.

“How’s the butter going, Virgil?”

“Uh… beaten?”

“Then we can add the eggs and vanilla!”

Patton handed Virgil a small bowl of already-cracked eggs.

“Add them one at a time, okay?” He instructed. “Okay, now we need to mix the baking soda into the flour.”

As he spoke, he started measuring out the white powder in a measuring spoon before pouring the spoon’s contents into the bowl and whisking the two powders together. 

“... Okay, why are you whisking the flour? Aren’t we just going to mix it into the other stuff anyway?” Virgil asked. 

“I just want to make sure the baking soda is mixed in evenly,” Patton explained. “We can add the flour in now, though. Do you want to try, Janus?”

“No,” he said as he took the bowl.

Patton decreased the speed of the stand mixer. 

“Try to mix it in by thirds. If you pour it all in at once, it’ll fly all over the kitchen.”

Janus tilted the bowl and tried to only pour in a little bit, but most of the mixture ended up falling in, sending a puff of white into the air and making more flour settle onto his gloves. 

“Ah, whoopsie daisy!” said Patton. 

Still trying to ignore the powder on his clothes, Janus waited for the flour he’d already poured in to integrate with the wet ingredients before adding the rest. Luckily, this time he avoided sending another cloud of it into the air. 

“Now it’s time for the secret ingredient!” Patton announced. “Chocolate chips and chopped walnuts!”

“That’s two ingredients.”

Patton added them into the bowl, and once those were mixed in as well, he turned the mixer off.

“Last thing is to scoop them onto the tray to bake! Do you have the ice cream scoop, Virgil?”

“Yup.”

“Alright, why don’t you scoop half and then give Janus a turn?” the fatherly side asked. “Make sure to leave some space so they can expand.”

It only took a few more minutes to scoop out the dough and get the cookies in the oven, after which they just had to let them bake. And clean the kitchen, which was a bit of a mess. Or, maybe it was a lot of a mess. Did they  _ really _ have to use this many bowls? Luckily, Patton declared he would wash the dishes and asked him and Virgil to start putting things away and wiping down the counters. Janus wasn’t sure what he would have done if Patton had wanted  _ him _ to do the dishes. Despite their appearance, his gloves were not at all suited to actually cleaning, and submerging them in water while he was wearing them would be unpleasant. Once again, it wasn’t like he could just take them off. 

And so, they started cleaning up the mess they made. After putting away a few other things, like the vanilla and unused measuring cups, Janus picked up the bag of flour so he could return it to the pantry.

And then Remus came charging into the room.

“HEY GUYS!” 

“Eep!”

Startled, since he hadn’t expected Remus to appear out of nowhere, Janus lost his hold on the flour, and it went crashing to the floor. It burst open on impact, some flour flying out of the top and some spilling out of the newly-created rip in the bottom of the bag, and the air was temporarily filled with it. 

“Oh no, are you guys doing drugs without  _ me _ ?” Remus asked, fake hurt in his tone.

“... Ah… Remus… No, we were making cookies,” replied Patton, trying to maintain a smile that was just a bit too tense in the corner of his mouth. 

Janus just stood there frozen, not entirely sure how to move without tracking flour over even more of the kitchen.

“What kind?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“Oooo!” Remus exclaimed. “You should try adding rabbit poo instead!”

“Uh…”

“Anyway, do you guys know where my brother is?” Remus questioned. “I have  _ something _ I want to show~ him~!”

“...He’s in the imagination, Remus.”

“Ah, thank you, Virgil! Later, bitches!”

And with that, Remus was gone just as quickly as he came, leaving powdery chaos in his wake. Janus forced himself to take a deep breath in. He liked Remus, but he could definitely be hard to deal with sometimes. But it was okay. It was just flour. Knowing Remus, it could have been something a lot worse.

“...I’ll get the vacuum,” said Virgil, since he was the farthest one from the blast zone and would therefore track the least amount of flour through the mindscape. 

Ah, but he had already showered today, and now he was probably going to have to do it again. Maybe the vacuum could clean the floor and get most of the flour off of his clothes, but he knew it was in his hair, too. Should he be glad that his hat had been spared a powdery fate, or annoyed that it wasn’t there to protect his hair from suffering in its place? He didn’t want to have to shower again, but if he didn’t, he’d probably spread the flour around, and Roman would probably say something about it later. And he definitely didn’t want to get flour in his bed. Seriously, how much flour was in that bag for it to have made this big of a mess?

“Um, are you okay there, kiddo? You still look a bit spooked.”

“It’s just flour,” Janus mumbled back quietly.

“Uh…”

And then Virgil returned to the room, and everything was cleaned up, except for Janus and, to a lesser extent, Patton.

“Alright, then. Virgil, do you mind watching the cookies while the two of us get cleaned up?” Patton asked.

Virgil shrugged.

“Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I really did try to make this part a bit lighter, ‘Cuz the last chapter was pretty heavy-handed. I hope it wasn’t too boring, but I needed this chapter to set up the next one… Also, I really like making cookies...


	4. Part 4

A while later, Patton rejoined Virgil in the kitchen. By then, the cookies were out of the oven and waiting on a cooling rack, and Patton had made a pot of tea. The two present sides waited for Janus to come back, but even by the time the cookies had completely cooled, he still hadn’t returned.

“Hmm, Janus sure is taking a while…,” Patton mumbled. “You don’t think he ditched us, do you?”

“No,” Virgil sighed. “He just always spends a really long time in the bathroom. He’ll probably slither back eventually.”

“Oh, okay…”

A momentary awkward silence fell between them, and Patton noticed that Virgil was fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Something on your mind, kiddo?” he asked.

Virgil looked up at him, uncurling himself from the slightly hunched position he had slumped into. He took a deep breath in.

“... About Janus…,” he started. “I think something might be bothering him or something? I mean, you know I can kinda sense anxiety, since, well…”

Virgil gestured at himself.

“And he’s been pretty anxious for a while?” Virgil continued. “At first, I thought it was just because he wasn’t sure what to expect with being included, and it lessened for a while after we stopped arguing so much, so I thought it was okay. But lately, it’s been increasing again, and now it seems like it’s worse than before? And, I don’t know, he just seems kind of… off. Have you noticed anything?”

Ah, so Virgil was worried about Janus. Which, on the one hand, was good because it showed that Virgil and Janus were really repairing their relationship, but on the other hand, it was pretty bad because something was probably wrong with Janus, and Virgil was anxious now, too.

“I have, actually… That’s why I suggested baking cookies in the first place. I thought it might help him see that we’re there for him if he needs to talk, you know,” Patton responded, playing with his cardigan. “I mean, I didn’t really know him as well as you did before, but he doesn’t seem to be acting like the Janus I  _ do _ know. He’s just not being as confident or dramatic as usual, I think? I’m not really sure how much of it was acting in the first place, though…”

Virgil frowned.

“No, you’re right,” Virgil confirmed. “Some of it  _ was _ acting, yeah- I mean he  _ is _ Deceit- but a lot of it is just how he is. Usually, at least. But this whole shruggy-don’t-care-apathetic thing he’s been doing lately isn’t really him. I don’t know, it seems like he’s just going along with things, which is weird for him. And like I said, his anxiety has been getting kinda bad.”

He fidgeted in his chair, and Patton wasn’t sure if Virgil’s own anxiety was from being worried about Janus, being unsure of what he was saying, worrying Janus would walk in and hear them, or residual effects of Janus’s anxiety getting to him. Maybe it was a bit of everything.

Patton placed a hopefully-reassuring hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, kiddo. We’ll figure it out,” Patton told him. “Maybe we can talk to Janus when he comes back. It’s probably something we can solve, okay?”

Virgil looked into his eyes and was apparently satisfied by the earnestness he found.

“Okay,” Virgil agreed, letting out a breath. “Not sure how much he’ll actually tell us, though.”

“Well, it shouldn’t hurt to try, and even if Janus doesn’t want to talk, it might help him just to know that he  _ can _ talk if he needs to,” said Patton.

“I guess so.”

XXX

Janus knew he had been gone too long, which was ridiculous because he had already showered today and he didn’t even need to fully wash himself again. He just needed to wash the flour out of his hair. But of course, actually showering wasn’t what took so much time.

Nonetheless, he eventually made his way back to the kitchen, unsure if Virgil and Patton would still be there, or if they would have grown tired of waiting for him by now. He shouldn’t have taken so long when he knew people would be waiting for him, and he knew it. But he shouldn’t have such a hard time looking at his skin without picking at it, and yet here he was. 

To his surprise, both Patton and Virgil were still in the kitchen, sitting at the table. Virgil looked at him as he entered the room but quickly glanced away, and Patton smiled at him, but he could tell it was tense- a fake smile, a lie. Yes, they were definitely mad at him. Or at least annoyed.

“Well, kiddos, it looks like the cookies turned out great!” Patton told them. “We should try them!”

As Patton reached out to hand him and Virgil a cookie, Janus felt his chest tighten a bit. Patton was definitely faking his emotions right now. Which, yes, he did rather often, but Janus just  _ knew _ that he was annoyed with Janus. He probably wouldn’t yell at him- this Patton was far calmer than the Patton of their childhood, and even when they fought, he rarely so much as raised his voice- but that didn’t mean he wasn’t angry. It didn’t mean he wasn’t regretting letting Janus help bake the cookies, and it didn’t mean that he didn’t regret trying to include Janus in the first place.

Virgil turned toward him, and Deceit wasn’t entirely sure what his expression meant, but it just sent his mind spinning deeper down into thoughts about how annoyed the others must be with him and how they didn’t want him around. Virgil sighed.

“Hey, Jan, are you okay?” 

Deceit’s eyes darted quickly to focus on Virgil, and he noticed that he had been slumping in his chair. He quickly straightened himself out, sitting up taller and mustering up as much false confidence as he could.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he replied, moving his arm so the elbow rested on the table and he could rest his face onto one of them, assuming a casual posture. 

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him.

“Janus, maybe don’t try to deflect my question when I can  _ feel _ your anxiety,” he suggested. “I know  _ something’s _ up with you, and we want to help. But we can’t help if you don’t talk to us.”

“It’s not important,” Janus lied. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“So, we  _ should _ be worried then?”

Janus mentally cursed his deceitful speech pattern for revealing his believable lies as the lies they were.

“No, I was telling the truth,” Janus responded, trying to keep himself from stressing the syllables the way he usually would.”

Virgil gave him a look that told Janus he wasn’t buying it. 

“Janus, what color is the sky?”

Deceit moved his tongue around in his mouth, preparing to switch over to the truth.

“It’s blue.”

“No, put it in the same sentence,” Virgil denied, knowing that switching between lies and truth in the same sentence, while possible, tended to be very difficult for him. “Say that the sky is blue and that you’re okay.”

Janus tried, but he couldn’t get his mouth to quite do what he wanted.

“The sky is g-,” he cut himself off, grimacing. 

“See, you can’t say it, can you?” Virgil questioned before taking a deep breath in. “Look, we already know that something is wrong. We were just going to see if you wanted to talk, but you essentially just told us that, whatever’s wrong, we should be worried about it.”

The lying side felt a spike of anger rise in his chest. He felt trapped, and he  _ hated _ feeling trapped. So, he shifted himself so he would look even taller and, he hoped, slightly intimidating.

“It’ssss none of your busssinesss!” he hissed.

Patton held a hand up to Virgil, silently telling him to be quiet, and then he reached a hand out toward Janus. He rested it on top of Janus’s other hand, the one that hadn’t been supporting his head until a moment ago.

“Now, kiddo, we just want to make sure you’re okay,” Patton cut in. “Sometimes, problems are easier to solve if you have help.”

Deceit ignored the truth he heard in those words. He didn’t  _ want _ to hear it.

“I don’t  _ need _ your help!”

XXX

Virgil had thought that something was wrong before they started the conversation, but now that they were having it, he  _ knew _ something was wrong, and whatever it was, they had reason to be concerned. Just as Janus declared he  _ didn’t _ need help (meaning that he  _ did _ ), Virgil’s eyes caught on a spot of color on the sleeve of Janus’s shirt.

It was just a small dot of red, something that he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been trying to observe Janus more closely. But it was there. A small dot of red that looked like  _ blood _ .

And suddenly, he felt his stomach sink to the floor as his mind offered a conclusion he sincerely hoped to be wrong about.

Patton was in the middle of a sentence, but he didn’t care as he interrupted.

“Janus, why is there blood on your arm?”

XXX

As soon as Janus heard Virgil’s question, he felt cold spread through his body faster than an avalanche. His eyes moved to look at his arm, and sure enough, there was a small droplet of blood. Not a lot, certainly not something that should make Virgil sound the way he did when asking that question, but it was apparently enough for Virgil to notice. He should have put a band-aid on it. He usually didn’t bother, even though his skin picking often left him bleeding a bit, because it usually stopped bleeding pretty quickly, and his typically-dark clothes would hide any small droplets of blood that got onto them. But this shirt was a light yellow, and it seemed like his shower had kept the tiny wound from scabbing over. 

He gritted his teeth. It’s fine. This wasn’t a big deal. It was just a tiny drop of blood. One little drop of blood shouldn’t tip Virgil, or Patton for that matter, off about his bad habit. 

“Is there?” he spoke eventually, the pause beforehand being a bit too long to not be suspicious, but he couldn’t change that  _ now _ . 

“Janus, are you hurt?” Patton asked. “I’ll go get the first-aid kit, and then we can take a look, okay?”

Patton went to get up, but Janus put up a hand, telling him not to.

“Don’t, Patton. I’m not seriously injured… and the sky is blue,” he told the other side, begrudgingly adding the last part so the two of them didn’t immediately jump to the idea that he  _ was _ seriously injured and start panicking. 

“Then  _ why _ is there blood on your arm?” Virgil questioned. 

Janus shrugged.

“It’s just a little drop, Virgil,” Janus replied. “We all get little incidental injuries from time to time.”

Janus, of course, knew that the wound  _ wasn’t _ incidental, but he did know that it wasn’t  _ serious _ . People got worse wounds from tripping on the sidewalk. Making all this fuss over the tiniest drop of blood was ridiculous. Yes, he didn’t want to reveal his bad habit, but it wasn’t like he was in any  _ danger _ from it. He just didn’t want the others to think he was gross and judge him. 

“You  _ aren’t _ overreacting,” Janus continued, exaggerating his stress far more than necessary to get his intentions across.

He saw Virgil take a deep breath in, his shoulders relaxing just the smallest bit. 

“Okay, but if we’re overreacting, why are you so anxious lately?” he prodded. “I  _ know _ you have been.”

Janus shrugged. He hadn’t actually realized that his recent feelings  _ were  _ anxiety. If he had, he would have been more worried about Virgil calling him out on them. But, he supposed, maybe it should have been obvious that  _ worrying _ about what the others were thinking all the time was a form of anxious thought. 

“I don’t wish to discuss it,” Janus finally sighed, going for the truth in the hope it would make them leave him alone. “I really don’t. I appreciate your concern, but you two really are blowing this out of proportion. The sky is blue, and I really am telling the truth here.”

Virgil gave him a long, observant look before sighing yet again.

“Fine. We’ll drop it for now,” he muttered.

“But if you need to talk, or if you need help, we’re here, Janus,” Patton added. “Whatever’s going on, you don’t have to deal with it alone.”

Janus nodded, in acknowledgement more than agreement, before he stood up.

“I’m  _ not _ going to be in my room for a bit.”

And then he sunk out.


	5. Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: this chapter involves the discussion of potentially-triggering topics, so once again, please heed the tags.
> 
> Also, sorry about the longer gap between updates. My dog had to unexpectedly have his eye removed (so we were all upset and now we need to watch him closely), my family's been fighting a lot (worse than it's been in a while), and yesterday, my one relative showed up without warning yesterday (from out of state. without a mask. and he kinda pushed past my dad to come inside. and I had earbuds in so I didn't even know he was here until he was already close to me. and it was really stressful and awkward). 
> 
> So, yeah, a lot of crap has been happening lately, so even though I already have a lot of this written, I couldn't edit/post this until now. Sorry about the rant, but I also don't really have anyone to talk to lol, so I just yeet my thoughts into the internet.

It wasn’t until later that Virgil, while sitting in his room, realized that Janus may have been telling the truth when he said they were overreacting, but that his comment would have counted as the truth as long as Janus believed it. Of course, he hoped that they really  _ had _ been overreacting, but he just couldn’t help his thoughts turning back to that horrifying idea he had earlier.

If it wasn’t a big deal, though, why had there been blood on Janus’s arm? Sure, it was only a speck, but the actual wound could be bigger and just a tiny bit started bleeding. 

Virgil really wanted his idea to be wrong. He wanted to believe that nothing was wrong, that Janus was okay. But he knew that something  _ was _ wrong, and pretending otherwise wasn’t going to help anything. And maybe it really wasn’t a big problem or maybe Janus could resolve it himself, but the pieces Virgil saw added up to a picture he didn’t like. 

But regardless of whether Virgil was right or not, Virgil knew that Janus wasn’t going to ask them for help if he needed it. 

XXX

Janus woke up slowly. He’d apparently fallen asleep after leaving the kitchen, and he groaned as he sat up. Of course he fell asleep. Not like he had anything to do other than sleep and mope around. 

“Ugh, what time is it?”

After locating the clock, he saw it was 6:42 at night, which meant that he’d slept through the agreed-upon dinner time for the sides. Which, granted, he probably wouldn’t have gone regardless (he didn’t join the others for dinner very often at all), but he hoped that Virgil and Patton didn’t take his non-appearance as evidence for him being in distress.

Rather than get up immediately, Janus stayed in his bed for a while, pretty much just sitting there and staring off into space as his mind lost itself in thought. Or, that’s what he did until he heard a knock at his door.

His immediate assumption was that it was either Virgil or Patton coming to try to talk to him again, but the knock was way too loud, fast, and insistent to be either of them. He stood up and went closer to the door, not yet opening it.

“What do you want, Remus?”

“DeeDee!” Remus exclaimed through the door. “I gotta show you something!”

“... Is it something dead?”

“Yup!”

Janus sighed and unlocked the door. Remus barged in, dramatically tossing a dead  _ something  _ on his coffee table and making Janus cringe.

“... What  _ is _ that?”

Remus shrugged as he flopped onto Janus’s couch, which was in the same spot as Thomas’s but was black with a yellow floral pattern on it. 

“Fuck if I know,” the man replied as he crossed his legs. “I found it in the dark part of the imagination and wanted to show it to you.”

The thing on his table had five legs, feathers, and a trunk. Beyond that, Janus couldn’t decipher anything else because it was all mangled and bloody.

“... Did you have to put it on my coffee table?”

Remus shrugged.

“Isn’t it cool? I don’t even remember making it,” Remus told him. “... You don’t think my brother made it, do you?”

Janus saw Remus start to bare his teeth slightly.

“... I doubt it  _ wasn’t  _ your brother. You  _ weren’t  _ probably just not paying attention,” he told the other side. 

“Hmm. Yeah, probably,” Remus replied, moving so that he was leaning forward on the couch. “Anyway, I’m  _ bored _ , DeeDee! Come play with me!”

“... Alright. But try to hold back a bit, hm?”

“ _ Fiiiiiiine _ .”

XXX

In the end, Virgil eventually decided to try to talk to Janus alone. He would probably still try not to answer him, but Virgil hoped he would be able to decipher the truth from whatever lies Janus told. And so, when it was late enough at night that everyone would likely be in their rooms but not so late that Janus would have gone to sleep, Virgil crept down the hall to Janus’s room. 

The walk wasn’t long, but even still, Virgil’s chest was tight with nervousness by the time he stood in front of Janus’s door. Despite this, however, he raised his hand to knock anyway. He heard some shuffling from inside the room before the door swung open, revealing Janus standing there in the same clothes he had changed into after the flour incident, though they were a lot more ruffled now, as was the other side’s hair.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Virgil?” Deceit questioned as he saw who was standing in his doorway.

Virgil took a deep breath in.

“Look, I know you said you didn’t want to talk about whatever’s bothering you, but I can’t stop worrying about you, okay? So, can we  _ please _ talk? I just need to make sure you’re not in any danger,” Virgil told him.

He watched Janus mull over his request for a while, and just as Virgil thought he was going to get the door slammed in his face, Janus’s shoulders slumped with an annoyed sigh. Instead of replying verbally, the other man just turned to allow Virgil into the room and gestured for him to follow inside. As Virgil did so, he saw that the room wasn’t very different from the last time he had been there. At a glance, it looked like there were just a few books in different places.

“So, what danger do you think I’m in exactly?” Janus asked. “I  _ didn’t _ mean what I said earlier about overreacting, Virgil.”

Virgil stuck his hands in his pockets. 

“I know you meant it, but…,” Virgil started. “I guess I’m worried that you might have believed it, even if it wasn’t true.”

“Lying to myself, hm?” Janus mused as he went to sit on his couch. “So?”

Virgil followed him over to the couch, settling onto it just far away enough for it to not be any more awkward than it had to be.

“This… It’s a bit of a difficult thing for me to ask…,” Virgil told him. “And like, I  _ really _ hope I’m wrong, but I just keep thinking about it, so-”

He cut himself off as he spotted something red in the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he realized that there were reddish droplets and smears decorating Janus’s coffee table. It was mostly dried, turning brown and blending in with the dark surface of the table- but  _ why was there blood on Janus’s coffee table? _

Virgil’s heart felt as though it had stopped for a second before his heart rate suddenly soared as his idea seemed like even more of a possibility. 

XXX

Janus saw Virgil cut himself off and freeze, and he tilted his head in confusion.

“Virgill?” he spoke questioningly, not really knowing what had made Virgil stop so suddenly.

Virgil was breathing deeper now, as if he was trying to hold off a panic attack.

Janus was about to repeat the other side’s name again, but then Virgil spoke.

“Janus,  _ why _ is there  _ blood _ on your coffee table?!”

Oh. Janus looked, and sure enough, there was still some blood there. Remus took the dead thing with him when they left to ‘play’, and by the time they had returned, Janus had forgotten to clean up the blood still smeared on it. And now Virgil was staring at the blood in horror and panicking. Great. Just great.

“Virgil-”

“WHY IS THERE BLOOD, JANUS?!” 

“Calm down, Virgil,” Janus attempted. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that. The sky is blue, and I swear it’s not as big of a deal as you’re thinking.”

“YOU KEEP  _ SAYING  _ THAT!”

Virgil was breathing faster, frantically looking between Janus and the blood.

“Virgil, the blood is just from some creature that Remus killed. He wanted to show it to me; that’s all,” Janus explained, telling the truth in a voice he hoped made that clear. “He dragged me off before I could clean the table, and I forgot about it.”

Virgil wasn’t looking at him. He was just looking,  _ staring _ , at the blood, and Janus mentally slapped himself for making Virgil panic over his crap. 

He reached out a hand, firmly placing it on one of Virgil’s shoulders to catch his attention.

“Virgil, I’m not hurt. No one’s hurt. The sky is blue, and no one is hurt,” he tried again. “It’s just the blood of an imaginary creature. Not mine, and not one of the other sides. Okay?”

“You’re telling the truth?” Virgil asked between gasps, his eyes getting wet in the corners.

“Yes, Virgil, I  _ swear _ I’m telling the truth this time, okay? I said the sky is blue,” Janus confirmed. “I’m not lying on this.”

The other side tried to catch his breath, and he clenched his hands in the fabric of his hoodie. Janus wasn’t sure what to do. Before, back before Virgil left, he would have known how to comfort him. He would have known if he needed to pull him close or give him space. He would have known what to say to help convince Virgil that everything was okay. But now, he wasn’t sure anymore. Virgil was so different, and he was different too. And Virgil probably didn’t even want his comfort, anyway- not anymore.

And so they stayed like that, with Janus mostly unsure of what to do and therefore doing nothing, until Virgil managed to calm down on his own. As his breaths finally decreased in their harshness, Virgil covered his face with his eyes.

“Ah,  _ shit _ , this wasn’t…,” he tried. “I didn’t come here to freak out on you. I came to see if  _ you _ were okay, and I…”

Virgil removed his hands with a sigh.

“So, that  _ really _ isn’t your blood?”

Janus shook his head. Virgil ran a hand through his own hair.

“Okay. Okay…”

“... Virgil, why did you…” Janus asked, the question trailing off in a way that wasn’t very much like himself. 

“Look, Jan…,” Virgil began. “I… like I said, I wanted to ask you a difficult question, and then I saw the blood…”

“Okay?”

Janus still didn’t really get what Virgil was hinting at. Picking at his skin would never leave as much blood as was on the table, so he didn’t think Virgil had figured out what he was doing and panicked over it. 

Virgil took in another few long, deep breaths. 

“Janus… are you…,” he tried to ask, but stumbled over his words. “Are you… cutting yourself?”

Janus’s eyes widened. He had  _ not _ been expecting  _ that _ to be Virgil’s question. And now Virgil was looking at him with such a pained expression that it made Janus’s heart ache for hurting the other side.

“I- no, Virgil, no,” Janus responded, uncharacteristically stumbling just as much as Virgil did. “I swear to  _ everything _ that the sky is blue, and that’s not what’s going on. It really isn’t.”

“Promise?”

Virgil’s expression looked immediately relieved, though it was clear that he wasn’t quite ready to accept that relief just yet.

“I do promise, Virgil,” Janus spoke, continuing to tell the truth even though he could feel his lips trying to twist his words into lies. “It’s not that bad, okay?”

The two of them spent a few more minutes trying to make sure the other was okay before it was decided that Virgil should leave for the night. They’d both had more than enough distressing conversation for now, and neither was equipped to deal with a potential argument at this point. And so, Virgil let the matter of Janus’s problem drop for the time being, satisfied with the knowledge that he at least didn’t have to worry about finding Janus bleeding out, and Janus just hoped that Virgil would forget about trying to figure out what his actual problem was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this chapter was going to be really short, but I ended up including the last part in this one just in case the next chapter ends up getting too long (I don’t want to leave it on a cliffhanger). 
> 
> To be honest, I’m not really sure if skin picking counts as self harm or not? I’ve never really thought of it that way because, to me, they kinda fulfill different ‘purposes,’ but I guess some people count scratching and stuff like that as self harm? I don’t know, I guess it fulfills the definition? I was always going to tag this fic with that just in case, but considering the conversation in this chapter, it definitely needs to be there.


	6. Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last chapter for this part. I still have more ideas, though, so it won’t be the last chapter of the series.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented last chapter, and extra thanks to Aimandfire (who wrote a story to cheer me up). I’m still having a rough time, but it really does mean a lot. My dog is mostly doing okay, and we’re making sure to take good care of him. 
> 
> I figured I would post this chapter today because I think it’s happy? Or hopeful, at least. 

Janus hadn’t known that, despite just reassuring Virgil, his secret would be revealed so soon. And how could he have known? With most of his worries swept away, Virgil had backed away a bit, not yet having worked up the nerve to confront Janus again, and Patton had apparently decided to let him come to them on his own (which he did  _ not _ plan to do). And the others didn’t notice that anything was wrong at all, or at least, they made no indication that they noticed anything. 

But regardless of Janus’s false sense of security, his secret was revealed soon enough. 

Perhaps ironically, Janus was helping Patton in the kitchen again when it happened, making pasta this time instead of cookies. Virgil was sitting at the table, scrolling endlessly on his phone, and Roman was sitting with Logan in the living room. 

It happened when Janus went to dump the pasta pot into the colander. The pot was a lot heavier and the handles a lot hotter than he expected, and it only took a second for him to lose his grip. 

Janus managed to maintain enough of a hold on it to prevent the entire pot from pouring over him, dropping it back onto the surface of the stove, but the motion caused a wave of scalding water to splash over the side and onto his hand.

“FUCK!” he yelped.

Before he even fully registered what happened, Patton was at his side and dragging him over to the sink by his arm. The other side turned the sink on so that cold water blasted out of the faucet.

And then Patton pulled off his glove and shoved his hand under the freezing water.

At the moment, Janus didn’t even care that his glove was off, as he was too focused on trying to hold back pain-induced tears.

“Everything all right in there?” Roman shouted from the living room, having heard Janus’s yelp.

“Janus burned his hand!” Virgil responded.

He hadn’t even noticed that Virgil had stood from his chair, now standing next to the two of them.

“Should I go get the first-aid kit?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Patton agreed before turning his attention back to Janus. “Are you okay? Did it dump anywhere other than your hand?”

“N-No,” Janus gritted out as the water continued to soothe his burnt skin. 

Roman and Logan appeared in the doorway while they waited for Virgil to return, and once he did, Patton led Janus over to the kitchen table. They sat down, and Patton opened the first-aid kit to begin treating the burn. It wasn’t too large of a burn, but it covered the area surrounding the base of his thumb with red, stinging pain. 

Patton moved to take his hand, and that was when Janus realized that he was exposed. Patton could see his hand, see his skin. He would see his fingertips, and he would see that the damage there wasn’t from the burn. What if he questioned him? What if he realized that his hands weren’t all there was? What would he think? What would they  _ all _ think? 

And so, as he felt Patton’s hand brush against his bare skin, he flinched away.

“Oh, sorry!” Patton apologized, thinking that he had touched the burn. “Here, I’ll put some burn cream on it, okay?”

“No, no. I  _ can’t _ do it myself,” Janus insisted, holding his injured hand with his sill-gloved one.

“It’s okay, Janus, I’ll be gentle,” Patton reassured him.

Janus felt his shoulders rise up, tensing, as he wasn’t sure what to do. If he left, he would just look suspicious and they would probably question him about it later. Hell, he was already starting to look suspicious. But if he gave Patton his hand, he would  _ see _ . 

“Just let Patton fix your hand up, Lyin’ King,” Roman told him. “You know how he is.”

Janus felt his heart flutter faster in his chest as he held his breath and froze. And then a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Okay, okay,  _ why _ did your anxiety just shoot up?” Virgil asked him. “You aren’t afraid of burn cream, are you?”

He could tell that Virgil was trying his best to keep his tone light, but Janus knew that Virgil’s mind was already trying to come up with the reason Janus was hesitating, likely concocting something even worse than the reality again. Maybe he could convince them that he  _ was _ scared of medical treatment? That was a reasonable fear, right?. But then Roman might make fun of him for it, and they might not even believe him. 

“I believe Janus doesn’t want us to see his hand,” Logan cut in. “He always wears gloves, refusing to remove them even when not doing so is an inconvenience. Though, I don’t know what he could possibly be trying to hide.”

So much for trying to lie. 

Patton was giving him this look, and Janus didn’t know what to think. His eyebrows were pinched inward, and he was frowning, and  _ oh my god he was going to think Janus is disgusting and crazy and he’s lying again and Patton hates lying, he knows he still does, and Patton is going to be mad that he hid something from him, and- _

“Jan,” Virgil spoke firmly. “You need to calm down, okay? What’s wrong with us seeing your hand?”

He was frozen.

“Janus, whatever it is, we won’t get mad, okay?” Patton told him, his tone reassuring but clearly confused.

Patton reached out again, and this time, Janus let him. This was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not, whether he was  _ ready _ or not, and his hand really did hurt very badly. The other side pulled his arm toward himself by Janus’s wrist, being sure he didn’t touch the burn. As the hand was turned so Patton could access the injury, Janus saw his eyes widen slightly before a large, caring smile stretched across his face.

“Well, it looks like the burn isn’t too bad. It could have been a lot worse,” Patton told him as he unscrewed the cap on the cream. “I’ll have to touch it to rub this in, so sorry if it hurts a bit.”

Janus nodded stiffly, barely paying attention to the words he was agreeing to. Regret was already washing over him as he realized how stupid he had been for letting his secret be revealed. Why did he have to burn himself? If he had just been a little more careful, this wouldn’t have happened. Virgil and Patton would have eventually given up on trying to figure out what was wrong with him, and he could have just gone on without anyone knowing anything. But now, Patton had already seen, and judging by how close Virgil was, he had probably seen too. Logan and Roman were farther behind him, though, and he wasn’t sure if they had moved or how much they could see. 

But regardless of Janus’s thoughts, Patton just gently rubbed the burn cream into his raw skin and carefully wrapped a bandage around his hand. Janus thought he was done, but then Patton took out a few bandaids and started wrapping them around the tips of his fingers, two of which had apparently started bleeding from being blasted by cold water. 

When he was done with that, Patton held his hand in both of his.

“See, all taken care of,” Patton told him.

And Janus allowed himself to feel the slightest bit of relief because Patton  _ hadn’t _ yelled at him or judged him. And then Roman opened his mouth.

“I don’t get it. What was the big deal?”

“Roman-”

“No, I mean, I’m not trying to say that whatever the issue is  _ isn’t _ a big deal or isn’t valid or whatever,” Roman explained. “I just don’t get it. I don’t see anything wrong with his hand from here besides the burn.”

Janus didn’t respond. Virgil remained silent beside him.

“Patton, you bandaged his fingers as well. Was he also injured there?” Logan asked.

“Now, kiddos, I don’t think Janus is comfortable talking about this-”

“Is this why your arm was bleeding the other day?” Virigil asked.

He flinched.

“It is, isn’t it?” Virgil continued, sighing. “Janus, this isn’t as bad as I thought, but it’s still not  _ good _ , you know?”

Janus felt his lip wobble, and he had to, once again, keep himself from crying in front of the others. Virgil was judging him. Virgil thought he was gross and bad and he was going to start  _ hating _ him again, and all because  _ Deceit _ , the master of lies, couldn’t manage to keep a  _ single secret. _

“Seriously,  _ what _ are you guys talking about? What’s wrong?”

And Janus still couldn’t answer, and he couldn’t stop Virgil from answering either. 

“He’s been picking at his skin. A lot, by the looks of it,” said Virgil.

To Janus, it felt like time stopped. He felt his blood rushing in his ears, and his hands started to shake. It felt like the air around him had suddenly become heavy and dense as it weighed him down. 

And that just made Janus all the more surprised when the others responded. 

“Oh. Uh. Well, I guess it’s good Patton bandaged his fingers too, then?” Roman spoke, his voice uncertain. 

“That certainly explains the reluctance to show his hands,” Logan nodded. “Janus, you’re clearly bothered by it, so perhaps we should try to find a way to break the habit.”

That was not what he was expecting. He was expecting Patton to pretend everything was okay or get mad at him for lying. He was expecting Virgil to hate him again. He was expecting Logan to sigh and scold him for doing something so illogical. He was expecting Roman to tell him how he had made a big deal out of nothing.

He  _ wasn’t _ expecting Patton to treat the wounds on his fingertips the same as the burn. He wasn’t expecting Roman to accept it without invalidating his fears. He wasn’t expecting Logan to try to offer help.

What about Virgil? Was he angry? Disgusted? Or was Janus just making that up too?

“Jan.”

He looked up to meet Virgil’s eyes. He didn’t look angry. Instead, he looked concerned. 

“Patton was right when he said we wouldn’t get mad at you,” Virgil told him. “Everyone has bad habits. It’s  _ not _ a good thing, but none of us think any less of you for it.”

Virgil put an arm on his shoulder, giving it a slight, comforting squeeze. 

So, Virgil really didn’t hate him, then? He wasn’t mad or disgusted. This revelation only made it that much harder for Janus to stop the wetness in the corner of his eyes from falling free.

“It’s…,” Janus tried finally. “It’s not just a  _ bad habit _ … I… I can’t  _ stop _ doing it… I tried, and that barely even lasted a few weeks, and it wasn’t even as bad as now…”

His face was burning in embarrassment. He shouldn’t have said anything. Now, he just sounded like he was whining.

“... Jan, do you pick your skin when you feel anxious…?” Virgil asked, his tone soft.

Janus shrugged. 

“I… I don’t know… I… suppose?” Janus replied.

Well, the cat was already out of the bag. No point in hiding now.

“I just… It’s pretty much whenever I see my skin…,” he tried to explain. “That’s why I cover it up all the time…”

Oh, he was going to have to tell  _ so _ many lies later to make up for all these truths.

“But it is… a lot  _ worse _ when I’m… anxious,” he continued awkwardly, shifting in his chair. “It’s… I don’t  _ want _ to do it, not really, but when I feel… not so great is when I do it more… intentionally?”

Janus buried his face in his hands, hoping to at least cover up his red cheeks before he remembered Virgil’s fears.

“Ugh, I feel like I didn’t explain that right,” Janus sighed, frustrated at himself. “I’m not trying to  _ hurt _ myself. I just can’t… help it, I suppose.”

He hoped that that was enough to reassure Virgil. The other side had already panicked enough over the idea that Janus was hurting himself, and he didn’t want a repeat of that. Because it wasn’t  _ really _ about hurting himself. It was about fulfilling a compulsion and feeling the relief he could only feel when he did so.

“Oh, Janus…,” Patton spoke softly, and he sounded heartbroken.

This was definitely a mistake. Sure, the others didn’t hate him, but now, he had ended up hurting them. Why did he have to  _ be _ like this?

“It seems that you likely suffer from excoriation disorder, or dermatillomania,” Logan announced, cutting through Janus’s negative thoughts. “It’s a psychological disorder related to OCD that involves compulsive picking of the skin.”

What?

“It’s usually treated with cognitive behavioral therapy, though medication is sometimes an option,” Logan continued. “Medication might not be an option since we’re aspects of Thomas’s personality, but I’m sure we can try some strategies from cognitive behavioral therapy to help you cope with the feelings you have when you don’t pick your skin. It would probably also help to cut your nails shorter.”

Logan was giving him advice.  _ Medical _ advice. 

“I… What?”

He looked up to see that Roman and Logan had moved so they were standing in front of him beside Patton. 

“Look, Catcher in the Lie, no one is going to blame you for having a disorder,” Roman told him. “And maybe we don’t always get along, but I think we are all willing to help you deal with it.”

Seriously?

“Roman is correct. It might be difficult to control, but if you’re willing, I can help you learn the techniques,” Logan offered.

“We love you, kiddo. And when something bothers you, we want to help,” added Patton. “And I’m proud of you for telling us, even though it was difficult for you.”

“Yeah. And I mean, I’m  _ Anxiety _ ,” spoke Virgil. “I know some ways to cope with anxious thoughts, you know? I can help with those, too.”

Janus was shocked. He really hadn’t expected them to be so understanding, let alone actually  _ want _ to help him. But they were, and they  _ did _ , and Janus didn’t have to hide this anymore. He didn’t have to feel like he was lying to them when he didn’t want to.

Now, there was nothing to stop his tears from falling.

“...Okay…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s the end of this part. The skin picking will come up again in other parts, but it won’t necessarily be something particularly focused on in all of them. I think I’m going to have at least one other part related to this at some point, since you usually don’t just immediately stop picking your skin when people find out about it.
> 
> Sorry if this got too angsty? It’s far from the angstiest fic I’ve written, but I feel like the subject matter might have taken a strange turn? But idk, I wanted to write a thing about this being the reason Janus wears gloves.
> 
> Well, thanks for reading, and maybe I’ll see you in the next part. That one should be a bit lighter (hopefully).


End file.
